


This is Mine

by starsystems



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: inception_kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2018-01-08 08:38:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsystems/pseuds/starsystems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I fail at a prompt and Dom fails at being possessive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a prompt fill for the inception_kink LJ community.
> 
> It's pretty silly.

Dom isn’t sure how long it has been going on.

Maybe it was just self-preservation at first; a way to keep Ariadne’s growing interest in him in check, not letting it develop into a crush. Dom hadn’t needed to do anything special. Ariadne was good at reading him, almost frighteningly so. It had just been one, two, three touches too many. Just a hand on Arthur’s shoulder first, then on his arm and then on the small of his back, always lingering slightly too long. Not long enough to alarm Arthur, but long enough.

Dom felt the seam of Arthur’s waistcoat press against his palm and he slipped one finger under it, felt Arthur’s body heat through his shirt like it was just an accident.

It might have started there.

Or, Dom remembers a night a long time ago, when Mal wasn’t even his wife yet and Arthur was barely twenty two and laughing drunkenly against Dom’s cheek in a bar in Chicago. “Dom, you are bad for my sex life,” Arthur had muttered into his ear. Dom remembers the smell of tequila and the strands of Arthur’s sweaty hair in the back of his neck where his hand had grabbed at Arthur, keeping them from sliding slowly towards the floor.

Too bad every subtle bone in Eames’ body is reserved for the job. Dom doesn’t know how to stop the flirting. It just gets worse and worse and _worse_ and Dom’s mind is a mess even without this. He can’t control Mal and the growing hope ( _home_ ) in the back of his head and the way Ariadne slips into all of it and the way he hasn’t told this to Arthur, hadn’t found the words, and now it’s too late for that.

And Arthur says “Mr. Eames” so precisely. Carefully. Dom can recognize a flirting Arthur and it spreads cold along his spine.

And then it’s the morning of the Fischer job and everything will be over in less than twelve hours. The early morning of Sydney is cold around them and the sky is filled with grey clouds. The air is sharp in Dom’s lungs, makes him more awake than the hour would require. He’s waiting for his taxi outside his hotel when Arthur steps out and comes to stand next to him on the street.

“I’m going to come visit, if it’s okay,” Arthur says. Dom isn’t sure if he means home if they succeed or prison if they fail. Maybe he means both. It’s a precise sort of sentence, either way.

Dom shivers a little from the cold and bumps his shoulder against Arthur. “You are always welcome,” he says and watches the curve of Arthur’s smile.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Eames says from somewhere behind them. “Care to share a taxi to the airport?”

“No,” Arthur says, turns to Dom and leans forward. A taxi stops in front of them and Dom can feel Arthur’s lips on the corner of his mouth, hot and just as precise as Arthur’s sentences. “I think this is mine,” Arthur says and climbs into the taxi.

(“We could share,” Eames says after Arthur has left them behind. Dom shakes his head.)


End file.
